


I'll Be Fine Under Your Wing

by ssbfan4ever



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-08-12 08:18:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7927480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssbfan4ever/pseuds/ssbfan4ever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Allison Younge is a street performer with an amazing talent for an array of instruments. Sean Martin is one of the most well known music producers, and no one knows what he looks like.</p><p>These two are on very different positions on the status ladder, but that doesn't stop them from bonding.</p><p>But of course, what's a meeting like this without a bit of... adventure?</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Be Fine Under Your Wing

Allison sighed as she looked at what she had collected so far.

Ten dollars and sixty five scents.

 _Yay_.

She knew she should be happy with what she received, but it still agitated her.

She was good at the music she played--she didn't mean to sound cocky--and she knew it.

Which is why the lack of money bothered her.

Allison sighed--she had a feeling she'd be doing that a lot in the future--and put her guitar back in the case.

"Did I miss the show?" Allison looked up, and saw a man standing there. Dark, short hair--though still long enough to have fingers run through it--, five o'clock shadow, blue-green-grey eyes, the whole shebang. He had to be taller than Allison, she'd guess six feet, and he couldn't be older than forty.

"Last time I checked, shows were in stadiums."

"Then you must've not checked for a while."

"Is there a purpose to this conversation?" Allison asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I was hoping I could hear you play?"

"I'm only here to earn money."

"And I have money. If you'll play." Allison gave the stranger a once over, before picking up her guitar out of the case, and playing the first song that popped up in her mind.

" _With our backs to wall, the darkness will fall, we never quite thought we could lose it all. Ready, aim, fire. Ready, aim, fire. An empire's fall in just one day. You close your eyes and the glory fades. Ready, aim, fire. Ready, aim, fire away. Ready, aim, fire. Ready, aim, fire away. Off in the distance, there is resistance, bubbling up and festering. Hey Mister Motion, make me a potion, shake it all up with your mystery. How come I've never seen your face 'round here? I know every single face 'round here. A man on a mission, changing the vision, I was never welcome here. We don't have a choice to stay. We'd rather die than do it your way._ "

"Imagine Dragons, huh?" Allison smiled and nodded.

She was a bit caught off guard when a bill was held in front of her face, the peachy colour of the bill making her eyes grow even wider.

"A _fifty_!?" She hissed.

"Well, you sure's hell deserve it."

"I--Uh--Thank you. So much."

"I have to ask, what do you need the money for?"

"Well, as much as I hate to admit it, I'm still living with my parents at twenty years old. So, I want to put as little of a burden on them as possible and only purchase things with my own money. Or, rather, the money of others that has been handed down to me, thanks to the wonderful thing known as music."

"Fair enough."

"So what's your story, big guy?"

"My story?"

"Well, yeah. You obviously have some money to spare, considering I just went from ten bucks to sixty, and you spared it on a street performer. I'm just a little confused."

"I'll save my backstory for another time."

"Well now, I've just been cheated."

"Oh, trust me, you'll be seeing more of me."

And so, Allison now knew that stranger as the man who helped her get a new keyboard, what with the sudden spike in the money she had coming in.

_Two Months Later..._

"Am I ever going to know your name?" Allison asked, looking up from her stop on the ground.

"It isn't like I know yours."

"Yes, but you know my back story. Or part of it. Do I not get the right to your name?"

"Touché." The man held out his hand. "Sean Martin."

"Allison--Wait, what? Like, the biggest music producer ever, Sean Martin?" Allison asked, completely dumbstruck.

"Yell it through a megaphone, why don't you?"

"But no one's ever seen your face before!"

"Well, they have. They just don't know what name to associate with the face."

"I--So I'm the only one that knows what you really look like?"

"Uh-huh."

"Not even your assistant?"

"Nope. Every time she needs to talk, it's through an intercom. And I always leave the building with my face covered."

"Wow. Uh... I feel a little hounored." Allison said, smiling.

"You're adorable."

"Shut up!"

"So, what's your last name?"

"Hm? Oh! Sorry, my name's Allison Younge."

"That's a pretty name."

"Oh, stop it, you." Allison said, grinning and made a motion similar to a swat with her hand. Sean chuckled, and gave her another fifty. "Sean, please, you don't have to keep giving me a fifty every time I preform."

"And I keep telling you, you deserve it. Every person that doesn't give their time of day and at least a five dollar bill to you and your skills is absolutely insane."

"If anyone heard that sentence of yours out of context, they might think I'm some sort of sex worker."

"Ooh. You're right. Sorry 'bout that." Allison smiled, not being able to stay mad at Sean for long.

"Nah, it's fine. That isn't the worst of the worst jobs in my books, to be honest."

"Well, I'll know where to find you if things go south." Allison laughed at that.

"I appreciate the support." She said, still laughing a little.

"You wanna go get something to eat? The sun's setting, and you don't usually stay out this late."

"Sure." Allison said, smiling. She put away her saxophone and put her day's earnings in a bag, placing it in the case, before snapping it shut and walking with Sean down the street.

"Two months. That's sixty one days without knowing each other's names."

"I guess it just never came up in conversation."

"It just baffles me."

"'Baffles'?" Allison asked, smirking.

"Leave my vocabulary alone, Miss Younge."

The two chuckled as they walked down the street, and they finally agreed on eating at a South Street Burger Co..

o.O.o

"I'm not joking!"

"She said that to you?"

"She even sent a bouquet of rotting fruit after that. My office smelled for a solid _week_."

"That's awful, I shouldn't be laughing." Allison said, munching on a fry right after.

"No, it's okay. She stopped when I told her I could always tell the cops about her harassment."

"And here I was, thinking that your life was all roses and sunshine."

"It has been, for the past two month." Allison bit her lip, and looked to the side. 

Her tell for when she was so flattered, or when she was flattered and embarrassed.

"Come on. I'll walk you home."

"I don't live downtown."

"Your point?"

Allison smiled.

"Thanks, Sean."

"Don't think anything of it."


End file.
